Love was Made for Me and You
by starstruck94
Summary: A bunch of fluffy CB oneshots : Formerly titled as 'The Meaning Behind it All". No spoilers. Reviews are love :
1. The Meaning Behind it All

**Just a one-shot fluff about B+C choosing Baby names...  
I got all the Name meanings from  
Oh and reviews are golden :)**

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own Gossip girl. Would you stop rubbing it in already?**

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"Veronica?" my loving husband offers.

"No! Veronica Bass? Truth and Purity_ Bass_? Don't be delusional." I reply, bitingly. I love him, I do. But sometimes I just want to _strangle _him.  
Its times like this I'm thankful for his beloved signature scarf (even though it mysteriously went 'missing' a few years ago...)  
Serena's ridiculous excuse for a fiancé snorts at my remark.  
Better yet, I'll strangle _him_ with Chuck's scarf. Oh, now _that's_ an idea.

Rolling his gorgeous brown eyes and plastering a fake bored expression to his well-defined face, he says "Belle? Oh, _sweetie_, wouldn't you love to have a _bouncing baby Belle_?"

That is _one_ too many Disney references for me. Will I really have to watch that drivel day after day for_ years_? God, I hope not. I might become a soccer mom.  
I shudder at the thought.  
"Chuck…" I spat warningly through gritted teeth.  
He raises his hands in defeat.  
I smile, as I've won… Oh how many is it now... 5 arguments in a row? Or is it 6?  
He must be off his game.  
Or maybe he's terrified that I would maul him in his sleep if he angered his hormonal wife… Now that's an idea…  
But that would kind of forfeit his ability to f-- he must have noticed my reddened cheeks (its hot in here, plus certain memories from the shower, the hallway, the kitchen and the balcony that happened this _very fine_ morning _might_ have **penetrated** my thoughts) since he smirked so _seductively_ …  
Would our baby have that smirk too? God, I hope not.

A little boy with that smirk and mischievous gaze would that could tear the UES social scene to shreds…  
God, I hope _so._

I don't know which I'd prefer, a mini-Chuck with guile and a smile that could melt hearts or a little girl with my hair (and my penchant for headbands) and his _everything_ else.

"What about George for a boy and Georgia for a girl?" chips in Eric.  
We all turned to stare at the little Van der Woodson like he just grew a third head.  
"Uhm, I think I should go... Jonathan and all...Bye!" and he scurried out of our apartment like a bat out of hell (to be_ precise_, a bat that was doped up on meth and beaten with a bat _first_).  
Ha, bat out of hell... How many people would refer to the Bass residence as hell?  
Too many too count.

I'd feel sorry for Eric if he hadn't just suggested I'd name my baby _that._ Please, like I'd name my unborn child anything remotely resembling that filthy whore.  
I think in an attempt to stop me from chasing after his (ex) step-brother with a kitchen knife, Chuck tried to get us back to our topic.

"What about 'Aidan' for a Boy and 'Bonnie' for a girl? Fiery Bass or Pretty Girl Bass, Blair?" my ridiculously handsome husband proposes, and I know he's undressing me with his eyes.  
"Bonnie? Too _Gone With the Wind_ for me… But Aidan… Has potential," I say, sucking on the end of my pencil, staring at my husband under my eyelashes, imagining what we could (would and will) be doing if our beloved _visitors_ weren't here.

_He's pushing me against the wall, whilst still mindful of my enlarged abdomen, his kisses are __soft and slow __at first, until I pull him to me crashing our mouths together, running my hands through his luxuriously thick hair, our tongues intertwined, moaning, growling, pulling, wanting **more** and before we realize it, our clothes are scattered over the floor and--_

A cough distracts us from our brief foray into eye sex.

Regretfully, I tear my eyes away from his, although I can still feel his burning stare on me.

"What about Kalyca? It means 'Rosebud'... Oh, I like Callia; it's Greek for 'beautiful'! Isn't that sweet?" Serena exclaims, her voice rising one or two octaves.  
Ignoring Serena, Chuck says, "Blair, you'd just _love_ Megara," with that same intense glint adorning his beautiful brown eyes, only now it's mingled with mischief.  
I swear, the next time we're alone I am going to _castrate _him.

Also, when did he start watching so many cartoons?  
"Why don't you name the poor kid after your mother, if you're so hard-pressed for names?" Humphrey, forever the nuisance, said.  
Honestly, fortune was on _his_ side the day Serena deigned to speak to the lowly Brooklyn ass.  
Before I had to endure the pain of replying to him, Chuck interrupted me, "What ..." he began, his gaze intense.  
"What about Lila?"

Lila...  
Lila Bass.  
Lila Misty Eleanor Bass.

"I..." I begin, my voice becoming thick with emotion at Chucks hopeful look.  
I know he knows what it means, and it's touching.  
Oh, I love this man. Him and his abnormal attention to detail.

Night Covered with Mist and Light Bass.

I _love _it.  
I looked at him, my eyes never leaving his and said "It's perfect... I love it."

"That's gorgeous, B! Oh can you imagine, in like a month and a half, your gonna have a little baby Lila running around!! " Serena squealed.  
"Well, not running just yet, but you know what I mean," she said, correcting herself.  
"Yeah... That's great name, Blair. Serena, we have to go. Cece's waiting for us at the restaurant," Humphrey said, pulling Serena out the door with him.  
For once, Brooklyn did something right.

Once they were gone, I looked at him, _my husband_, and I don't think I've seen him so...  
Adoring.

"Chuck...I... You're..." I couldn't find the right words to describe my-_ our _-feelings.  
So instead, I crossed the small space between us, took his face in my hands and told him what words couldn't say with kisses.

"I love you," He rasped out, as he planted kisses along my neck as we reenacted our eye sex fantasy.  
"I love you more," I said, leaning to kiss his full, beautiful lips, rocking my hips against him all the while.  
"Impossible, Waldorf," he declared, our eyes met and then the fireworks took over our bodies.

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Tangled in our bed linens a few hours later, with my leg draped over him and my head nestled in the crook of his neck, I whispered "Baby?"

"Yeah?" Chuck answered, his eyes still closed. I waited till his eyes opened to continue.  
"When have you been watching cartoons?"  
"Lately… I want to be a cool Dad, Blair," he replied nervously.  
I smiled softly, imaging us as _parents_.  
"And baby?"  
"Yeah? "  
"It's impossible, _Bass" _I said smilingly, kissing him tenderly before I leant my head down to his chest.  
"Oh, Chuck?"  
"Yes, Blair?" his ever-present smirk stretching into a full blown smile,  
"I still love you more," I said, pressing another kiss to his lips.

I was drifting to sleep when I heard him reply softly under his breath,  
"Impossible, Bass," before giving into sleep, himself.

I'll let him have the last word for now.  
There's always tomorrow.

But, I don't think this is a fight we'll ever agree on…  
And what's really strange?  
I don't mind.


	2. Daytime Television

**A/N: Did you guys hear about that guy who sold an email attachment of a seven-legged spider for 15 grand? I thought that was **_**hilarious**_**.**

**Another fluffy oneshot :)****  
Okay, so I've put it with **_The Meaning Behind it__All _**so all my little one-shots are in the same place, but I can submit it separately if it makes it any easier for you guys...**

_**Reviews can be my Christmas present :)**_

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own Gossip girl… Josh Schwartz wouldn't sell it to me! I tried the whole seven-legged spider shtick but it just didn't work.  
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**  
**One day, I swear on all that is good and holy, I will _kill_ whoever thought up the idea of daytime television.  
I'm in my apartment lying on my couch in front of the TV, the remote too far away and unable to move because I'm swathed in blankets since _I_ chased after _him,_ the devil incarnate, to stop him from doing something stupid_ again. _Oh, and snow that was up to my ankles teemed with my specially designed red silk cocktail dress kept me _very _warm. Did I mention it was _very, _very short? And backless? And _revealing?_ I'm not one to snub cleavage, but that dress could have made a stripper blush.  
At least a stripper with _excellent_ taste and a platinum AmEx. Or just a _lot_ of $1 bills.  
Is it that _obvious_ that he bought me the dress?

How he got my measurements, I'll never know.  
Although I can almost see him running a measuring tape over me while I'm asleep… Twiddling an imaginary moustache with a malicious glint in his eye …  
God, he's creepy sometimes.  
Or maybe I've been watching too much of the soap operas?  
Yes, that's probably it.

I've been stuck with this cold for… Let's see now… 3 or 4 days? Or is it a week?  
A decade? It feels longer than that. I'm not even sure we're still in the 21st century.  
Concentrating on the TV, to stop my inevitable chain of thought (Problem- Reason for Problem (i.e. _Chuck)- _Chuck jealous- Chuck's sexiness when he's jealous- Chuck's overall sexiness- Chuck, Chuck and Chuck)_… _I think it's safe to say I have a one-track mind.

Oh, now I think Senorita Gustavez is accusing Senoré Pablo of cheating on his wife... I think, anyway…  
I _so _should have taken Spanish instead of French.  
I don't really know what they're talking about, but I can guess… But they do seem to be in some kind of crisis_, _so I must be on the right track_…_

Oh, look.  
There he is.  
The **ass.**  
Oh, keep looking bashful baby, it's gonna get you _nowhere. _You think cooking for me is going to earn my forgiveness? Try_ harder.  
_Think a little more..._ Extravagant._

What's that? You're sorry? Well I'm sorry too.  
I'm sorry that I'm too tired to talk to you.  
So leave.  
_Now._

I shuffled around on my corner of the couch so he couldn't see my face and pretended to fall asleep.  
I miss sleep... I haven't more than an hour or two in days.

I _do_ remember hearing him sigh dejectedly (as he _should_) and I _thought_ I felt him lie down next to me.  
I'm not entirely sure since I fell asleep so quickly.  
When I opened my eyes again it was nighttime and he was sleeping next to me, half-falling off the couch, his arm draped over my stomach and his hand holding mine.  
I gave him a little kiss on the cheek, because he looks so beautiful when he's asleep…So, while he's unconscious (and just because I love him) I'll forgive him.

But only when he's unconscious.

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I will admit I _probably _should not have run out in the middle of New York's most prestigious Christmas party (and New York's whitest Christmas since 2002) to punch out Blair's 'escort'.  
All I heard was she had a date, someone _other _than me -her _boyfriend-_ that was taking her to the biggest Christmas event of the year and that said date was kissing someone very brazenly outside… I didn't think. I didn't even see her in the lobby, handing her coat to the concierge. I rushed past her and the crowd to the street till I found the son of a bitch and swung him my best shot.

I only noticed it wasn't her he was kissing when she screamed at me from the middle of the road, wading through the 6 ½ inches of snow in her 5 inch heels.  
In my defence, I didn't know he was her cousin, and I most _definitely _didn't know he was gay.  
When I said that out loud, she gave me an undeserved eye roll and pointed to the person- the man- he'd been kissing.  
When I told her didn't get her message because my battery had died, she sent me a murderous glance that could put Ted Bundy to shame, before helping her cousin out of the snow.  
So, given the circumstance, is it wrong that I overreacted?  
Fine, it is.  
But I didn't tell her to follow me; _I _didn't make her sick.  
That is _all_ her fault.

She looks so cute when she's sick, with her puffy nose, dried lips and her reddened cheeks from all the blankets thrown about her.  
She's telling me to leave, but I'm ignoring her. I can't take her seriously when she's speaking like that...  
It's hard to resist the urge to "Sweetie, what does exavagand mean?"...  
Rolling her beautiful eyes at my smirk, she turns around to dismiss me by falling asleep.

I can tell by the bags under her eyes, sleep hasn't come to her easily these last few days...  
And in pours the guilt for making her sick.  
I refuse to believe it was my fault, but tell that to my heart. Or to my conscience that was dormant so long ago...  
I almost miss those days.  
I lied down next to her and tried changing the channel- that Spanish flamenco dancing was slightly disturbing , especially since they were dancing in a hospital on top of MRI machines...  
Who _watches_ this shit? Much less, who _writes _it?  
But as it turns out, all daytime television sucks.

With the TV off (and all that incomprehensible Spanish chatter gone) I can hear her snoring lightly, congested from her stuffy nose… Which, by all rights should repulse me, but it doesn't, which only goes to show how much I love her.  
She's shivering a little, despite all the blankets she's covered in. Joining her under them, I brought her little body closer to mine.  
I kissed her cheek lightly, because she's so adorable when she's sick and because she's _my _girlfriend.  
_My_ soon-to-be fiancé.  
All mine.

I don't know when exactly, but I woke up to find the sun had gone down, and I was falling off the couch.  
Blair was still sleeping in my arms and still holding my hand, still exactly the same except for an added smile that proved I would be forgiven.  
Sure she'll make me sweat it out (figuratively, of course; It's practically minus 20 degrees now) for a few days, but eventually she'll give in- she _always_ does.  
And then our hot make-up sex will make the cold weather a moot point.

I can barely wait to ask her…  
I can barely wait to make_ officially_ her mine.

I have the ring... beautiful and one-of-a-kind, just like Blair.  
And it was the only thing my Mother had left me.****

I just know she'll say yes.  
I'm Chuck Bass.  
I _always_ get what I want.

And what I want is Blair Waldorf to be Mrs. Blair Bass.  
****

Okay how'd you like it? :)**  
Should I make it a two-shot or should I just leave it like this?**

**Reviews are diamonds in the rough ;)****  
**_**  
**_


	3. Fathers of the Bride

**I'm finally back, with another chapter. This is the second part to 'Daytime Television'.**

**iluvjoejonasxx, the first chapter is after he proposes and she's pregnant. Daytime Television was before they got engaged and this is the chapter were Chuck proposes. **

_Reviews are (almost) lovelier than a CB wedding :)  
_

**Disclaimer: GG isn't mine, if I have to say it again I swear I'll cry.  
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**  
**It started when the doorbell rang.

"Chuck? What are you doing? Oh my g— NO!" Blair cried out, her expression so comically outraged, I could only laugh- she was shocked I was going to answer the door only wearing the black silk boxers she bought me for our third anniversary. I laughed at her again, when she threw something- I think it was a pillow- with incredible aim at my head.

"Serena, sis, you have terrible timing- Blair and I were about to go for round fou—"

I called out, hoping to disgust our unwelcome visitor. I opened the door to _our_ apartment, expecting to see Serena's familiar golden head (and Humphrey, her charity case gone wrong, skulking behind).  
"Bl- _Oh, _Charles. Hello…" said an uncomfortably familiar- and unexpected- voice.  
All I could think at that second was "Oh, shit. I'm dead," until I heard Blair scuffling around in our bathroom.  
I cleared my throat since it inconveniently lost all moisture and _finally_ said, "Uh, h-hello Mr. Waldorf, it's lovely to see you…" I added conventionally, hoping that would… I don't know, make him blind? Or an amnesiac?  
"I'd say the same Charles, but there is just entirely too _much_ of you to see," Harold replied icily, Roman by his side, chuckling under his breath.  
I heard a muffled peal of laughs coming from the door adjoining to our bathroom.  
Oh, _no fucking way_ am I going down without some witnesses- besides I doubt Harold would hurt his daughter… But I know he wouldn't pass up the chance to hurt _me._  
So, given his sour expression I think I'd feel a lot safer if Blair was out here with me.  
"Yes sir. I'll go see where Blair is… We wouldn't want the lady of the house to be rude to our guests would we? No…" I said, laughing nervously, trying to be nonchalant and failing miserably. How the hell do the french do it?

So I rushed off, in search of my soon-to-be-fiancé and in a desperate attempt to put as many feet between me and her father as possible.

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I tried not to laugh, but hearing his astonished voice ("Uh, h-hello Mr. Waldorf, it's lovely to see you..." _No, I was not just pleasuring your daughter... Why am I naked? Erm, well... I'm a nudist sir, it's in my religion) _just pushed me over the edge! I couldn't help but laugh. Especially when Chuck walked into our bathroom, with his eyes so wide... He looked like he saw a ghost and I _think_ I saw him put a hand protectively in front of his, ahem, goods_. _I started laughing harder at the sight of him, I was quite literally crying and gasping for breath.

Finally, without meeting his eyes in case my willpower faltered, I said, "What's wrong baby? Is Daddy scaring you?"  
He paled, but his eyes narrowed and he spoke quickly and quietly, as if he was on a stealth mission, "Blair, I swear on your Yale degree, If you don't come out there with me and keep your Father away from any knives for the sake of my penis, I will call your Mother and tell her _exactly_ what you said about her new fall line," with a crooked smile.  
No. She'd kill me...  
She hates when I criticize her work... I gulped, audibly, terrified at the thought.  
He wouldn't dare... Would he?  
As if he could read my mind, he cocked his head and said "Oh, I would, Blair. Now go and talk to your _fathers_ while I get dressed," he turned to leave, but stopped abruptly, to look at me, all his confidence having disappeared and said, "Please," in such a small voice, I felt something flutter in my stomach.  
Oh, the big baby.

After all, I wouldn't want anything to happen to him to now, would I?  
Especially since...  
Oh, but I'm not supposed to know about that.

So, I got up off the bathroom floor, dusted myself off, took his hand and (since I was already dressed) went to greet my father and his gay lover.

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Eventually, Harold warmed up to me, although I noticed his smiles were a little tight whenever I touched Blair. I kept a safe three-people-can-fit-between-us distance, which was torturous since that dress she's wearing (trust me, if i get my way it'll end up on the floor soon enough) is so short, I can see a maddening expanse of her soft, perfect legs...  
_Stop, you idiot.  
_I don't want to get a hard-on in front of Harold. Or Roman. Blair would _kill_ me.  
After tonight, I should have a shrine built to Roman- he's been playing the peacemaker by keeping Harold from strangling me. Although, I can't see how it's my fault. It's HIS daughter that's parading about, looking ethereal, practically untouchable... Her skin looks like butter...

Harold cleared his throat, to draw my attention away from his devastatingly beautiful daughter, back to the conversation... What did he say? I don't even know...  
I didn't realized I had been staring until Blair glared at me, murderously.

I swallowed uncomfortably. It seems Roman will have to protect me from more than just Harold.  
And Blair is much more terrifying than her father.  
Oh, jesus.

This is _so_ not going to plan...

Finally, after what seemed like _decades_ of awkward glances and uncomfortable lulls in conversation, Roman- who, from this day forward will be known as Saint Roman- decided he just _had _to go and visit Eleanor and Cyrus (whom, I'm not surprised to find, he adores). They left quickly after that, Harold was almost civil to me, when we said our goodbyes.  
I turned around, thinking I would be facing my loving girlfriend, Blair Almost-But-Not-Quite-Bass, but instead I found myself facing a fuming, so-angry-she-makes-volcanoes-look-friendly and- I hate to say it- extremely sexy, Blair Waldorf.

Oh, shit.  
I'm dead.

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"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" I screamed, trying _very_ hard not to throw something heavy at his stupid head. His **beautiful **stupid head.  
He's too goddamn gorgeous, the bastard. Why does he always look so **appealing?** Why?  
"You. Practically. Came. In. Front. Of. My. FATHER!" I screeched, slapping him at every pause. He didn't try to block my attacks, he just stood there looking bewildered.  
Suddenly, he grabbed my hands (which were still battering his heavenly chest) in a strong vice-like grip, his eyes playful but definitely nervous.  
"Blair," Chuck said, amused at my attempts to wriggle my hands free of his grasp. It's not helpful for him to touch me when I'm angry. Its like I can't even remember why I'm angry...

Oh, right. I remember now.

"Blair what? Blair I'm sorry? Blair, I am the most ridiculous imbecile ever to walk on earth? Blair, I WASN'T JUST MAST--" I was saying, until a familiar pair of soft, luscious lips met mine pushing against me, till my knees buckled, even then those lips were unrelenting, I felt my lips open slightly allowing his expert tongue to slip through, caressing me, I moaned a little...  
"Blair," Chuck rasped, breathlessly, "Will you marry me?"

I felt as if the world had stopped turning, and at that moment nothing mattered except the exquisitely handsome boy in front of me, with his deep brown eyes that always manage to drive me crazy, no matter where we are and his chocolate brown hair sticking up in tufts from where my hands had mussed it moments before. The man that thought he was worthless, that trust, love and healthy relationships were beyond him. The one who screwed half of Manhattan (and, if I'm being honest, every other city in the world). The same boy that confessed to having butterflies.  
He, Chuck Bass has butterflies _for me.  
_I still cant believe my luck, even after all this time.

Chuck was still waiting anxiously for my reply. I hadn't realized I was staring at him till he raised his eyebrows, poorly trying to disguise worry for indifference.  
I stood on the tips of my toes, still staring up at him.  
I smiled, small at first but widening as comprehension dawned on his almost criminally handsome face. I opened my mouth so I say it aloud, but before I uttered a syllable his lips met mine, so fast and so hard my knees buckled, turning me into a pitiful pile of human goo. Somehow- with the hand that wasn't currently undressing me- Chuck picked me up, cradling me in his arms and walked slowly, _so slowly_, to our bed. With painstaking care, he slipped off my underwear, kissing where the air hit, running his hands all over the inside of my thighs. He leant back, beginning to take off his shirt before I caught his hand. With my other hand, I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him onto the bed and straddled him, my fingers deftly removing his all-too-constrictive clothing. I heard his breath catch and I smiled triumphantly, until he flipped me over so **_he_ **was straddling **_me_** and growled into my ear "I'm still waiting for your answer, Waldorf,"  
"Yes," I whispered, into his cheek, and then _finally, _I felt that familiar bulge just at the tip of me slowly starting to enter, until a very loud knock interrupted us from our athletic activities.  
We both groaned after a loud, impatient voice came from outside.  
"B! Hurry up, we have to go!" Serena called.

She has **_horrible_** timing.  
I have an idea...

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I couldn't help myself. I honestly had it all planned out- Dinner, that I would cook while Serena took her out for lunch, followed by Breakfast at Tiffany's with champagne, my mothers ring and the all-important-question asked right as Holly and Paul kiss. But she stood there, looking like steam was billowing out of her ears, slapping me- they weren't light playful slaps, I _felt _those slaps- but I was too mesmerized. I love her, even when she's attacking me. I didn't mean to ask her, not then. I had it all planned out, but being Blair Waldorf, she managed to usurp all my plans. As usual.

None of that explains why she's wrapping a thin sheet around us both, and huddling towards the door.  
"BLAIR, HURR--" Serena's huffing, until Blair swings open the door, stopping the blonde in her tracks.  
"Oh, sorry, S, but we're kind of busy... Could you come back later... Say, tomorrow?" Blair said, smiling at Serena's astonished gaze.  
Serena looked at me, and I winked conspiratorially. She got the message, I think. Quite an achievement for her.  
"Oh, oh.. Okay... I- I've got things to do.. I, um, I'll see you tomorrow... Bye, erm, B" Serena stuttered, suddenly half smiling, half running away from us in her haste.  
I cant say I'll miss her company.

Blair closed the door happily, turning towards me, saying "Now, where were we?" before attacking me, but this time with her lips and we fell to the floor in a heap, both too frantic to make it to the bed.

In our bed, a while later, I broke the silence.

"Blair," I said, "I love you,"  
"I love you more," she replied, twirling her finger around my hair.  
"_Impossible_," I whispered, into her ear, nibbling lightly on her lobe.  
"N-no. I- It's true," she moaned, breathlessly.

I still cant believe my luck.  
Blair Waldorf chose _me._ Over everyone else, she picked me.  
She **loves** me.

Not as much as I love her, but that's to be expected.  
I'm in love.  
_Chuck Bass is in love._

Now that's seriously unexpected- If someone told me 5 years ago, I'd be in love- let alone living with and _proposing to _Blair Waldorf, Nathaniel's girlfriend (at the time) I would've laughed in their face and said "I'm Chuck Bass".

I wonder what Nathaniel will say when I tell him...  
I cant really say I'm all that worried- I could always get him high first.

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**Ah, its 2:55am and I'm finally done.  
There's probably heaps of mistakes but I'm too tired to check.**

**Oh and on that note, I'm looking for a Beta if anyone is interested :)  
**


	4. I Loved Her First

**Just a little oneshot to go with **_**Love Was Made for Me and You**_** :D**

**Reviews, please ;)  
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gossip Girl.  
Song: I Loved Her First- Heartland  
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I still remember everything about that night, although my clearest memory is when I first saw her in that dress. Her hair shone, the fading sun framing her face like a halo,, an angel gracing us mortals. When she walked down that aisle, beneath a lily-covered archway, I thought I'd never be happier. I knew I'd never see anything more beautiful. But I was wrong to think I'd never be that happy again. I never wanted to let her go; I still don't. I was tempted to bribe Harold to let me take his Father-Daughter dance.

_Look at the two of you dancing that way  
Lost in the moment and each others face  
So much in love you're alone in this place  
Like there's nobody else in the world  
_

She had picked the song. We had argued over it at first, I mean country music? At my wedding? At her wedding? I had never known Blair liked country music. I thought it was cheesy, those words. That it would be tacky. Still, Blair had argued and argued, and as always, she got what she wanted.

_I was her number one  
She told me so  
And she still means the world to me  
Just so you know  
So be careful when you hold my girl  
Time changes everything  
Life must go on  
And I'm not gonna stand in your way_

I had never thought of how Harold was feeling that night. I certainly didn't have any children grown and married, so I couldn't pretend to sympathize and I was too caught up in his daughter to empathize. I hadn't thought what it would feel like, giving away my own little girl.

_But I loved her first and I held her first  
And a place in my heart will always be hers  
From the first breath she breathed  
When she first smiled at me  
I knew the love of a father runs deep  
And I prayed that she'd find you someday  
But it's still hard to give her away  
I loved her first_

I can say now, with all certainty, it's a fate I wouldn't wish on _almost _anyone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

It was déjà vu.  
The second she walked up that aisle, to _him,_ the ingrate, she looked just like her mother. Like it was me up at that alter, the luckiest man on earth and Blair walking up the aisle with the lilies overhead and the flower in her hair. Change the scenery and you'd have my wedding 23 years ago.

Blair's hand is stroking mine, softly, reassuringly. How can she be so calm? Our little girl's getting married to that worthless piece of shit. "Daddy, he owns his own _multi-million dollar company!_" Lila had said in reply, as if it was something _new._ What had she grown up on? A farm? Did she wear OshKosh or Baby Dior as a kid? I didn't think so. He's not good enough for her. Though, I wasn't- I'm still not- good enough for her mother. Or for her, actually.

But that's different.

"Stop cracking your knuckles, you'll make your hands sore," Blair whispered, "Plus, you look like a gangster. You'll scare his family away, not that that would be such a shame." Blair didn't like his family- mainly because they hadn't RSVP'd on time and Blair is anal about everything. I cracked a smile. She looked beautiful in red. I'd always thought that.

"Please, you're the MOB here remember?" I teased, cracking my knuckles again and ignoring the pain proceeded to squeeze her ass. She, of course, pinched me with her well-manicured talons, but it was worth it, the distraction. Plus I know she enjoyed it- she's holding my hand again.

I tuned back just in time for the dreaded "I do".

Oh, my little baby girl… She's all grown up now.  
She doesn't need me anymore.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

They cut the cake, kissed and danced their first dance as man and wife.

_How could that beautiful woman with you  
Be the same freckle face kid that I knew  
The one that I read all those fairy tales to  
And tucked into bed all those nights  
And I knew the first time I saw you with her  
It was only a matter of time_

The song started and surprisingly, my eyes watered. I was shocked; didn't my tear ducts know who I am? I'm Chuck Bass and a Bass never cries.

Still, it was that damned song.

I danced with her, softly, careful not to step on her dress or ruin her hair- chocolate brown curls just like her mothers. She looked like Blair, everything except for her eyes. Her eyes were mine.

"Daddy? You'll come and see me won't you? I mean, LA isn't far but... You and mom will still visit right?" Lila asked me, her little chestnut head on my shoulder. She's so short, it's adorable. She looked up at me, her big doe eyes all teary, and her eyelashes glistening.  
I kissed her head and whispered, "Of course my little nightingale. Whenever you need me."

_But I loved her first and I held her first  
And a place in my heart will always be hers  
From the first breath she breathed  
When she first smiled at me  
I knew the love of a father runs deep  
And I prayed that she'd find you someday  
But it's still hard to give her away  
I loved her first_

"Daddy, are you sure you're ok?" She asked again, worried.  
"Are you happy?" I asked. She nodded her head and smiled magnificently. How on earth did I make this child? She's too perfect. Too much like her mother.  
"Then I'm ok." I smiled, nudging her head back to my shoulder, for the last time.

_From the first breath she breathed  
When she first smiled at me  
I knew the love of a father runs deep  
Someday you might know what I'm going through  
When a miracle smiles up at you  
I loved her first_

"Daddy?" her voice hitched slightly.  
"Yes, baby?"  
"His family are annoying, aren't they?" She joked, her little voice still thick.

"No, no… Fine, yes they are. Your mother doesn't like them either." I said, blaming Blair. I was rewarded with a little giggle.  
"Daddy?" she asked again.  
"Mhm?"  
"Love you." She wiped away a tear, smilingly.  
"Love you more." I replied sadly as the song was coming to an end.  
"Not possible, Bass." Lila laughed at her own little joke.

I smiled, kissed her cheek and led her to her new husband- her new everything. My little baby was all grown up. My little nightingale.

Andrew, her fia- husband, will have to go through the same thing. I'd feel sorry for him, I would, but he took away one of my girls tonight. He doesn't get my pity; he'll get one of the greatest girls in the world, for the rest of his life.  
At least I can always say I loved her first.


End file.
